"[A] thousand fond endearing Things crowded at once into his Soul, and press'd for Utterance!

Metaphor in Context

Being come to the Monastery, the Sanctity of his Appearance gave him an easy Admittance; and telling the Abbess that he had taken that Journey at the Entreaty of the Brother of Montamour, who had inform'd him, that he was under an Apprehension that there was more of Pique than true Devotion in her abandoning the World, and desir'd him to discourse her on that Affair: When he told me this, said the Counterfeit Venerable, I thought the Duty of my Function obliged me to search into the Truth, and use the best of my Endeavours to prepare her, if she is not so already, for the Happiness which a religious Life affords. With this, and some other Expressions of the same Nature, the Reverend Matron was wholly won to his Purpose: She left him alone, while she went [Page 218] to acquaint Montamour of his being there, and the Reasons which had brought him. But when she return'd leading her in, and had presented her to him, how impossible would it be to set forth the Confusion he was in? The sudden Rush of painful Extasy! the darting, throbbing, tingling Mixture of Delight and Terror, which every Vein confess'd, and shook the alarm'd Heart with almost mortal Tremblings! Not all the natural Boldness of his Sex, not all that Presence of Mind which us'd to be his inseparable Companion, not all the Resolutions he had form'd, not all the Care he had taken to arm himself for this Encounter, were sufficient to defend him, when once the lovely injur'd Montamour appear'd! He thought she look'd more fair, more beautiful than ever; and tho' her Eyes had lost nothing of their wonted Sweetness, yet a long Habitude of Melancholy had abated a little of the Gaiety of their Rays, and the Austerity of the Life she was about to embrace had given her a greater Composedness in her Countenance. Conscious of Guilt, and too---too sensible of his own Unworthiness to find Mercy, she seem'd to him such as Imagination figures a destroying Angel, adorn'd in shining Ruin! all gloriously Cruel! and severely Just! It was not in the least owing to his own Conduct, that his Disorders were not visible to the Abbess; but that good Lady, believing that on the Account he came it was improper to have a third Person Witness of what he had to deliver, took her Leave, only telling him, That when their Conference was ended, she shou'd entreat his Company to take Part of what their Cloister afforded. But he neither heard nor had Power to make any Answer to this Compliment; every Sense was absent, and Thought dissolv'd in the vast Hurry of his various Emotions; but when Montamour, who little suspected the Reason of the Friar's Silence and distant Behaviour, desir'd him to sit down, and was beginning to enquire after her Brother, the Sound of her dear, well-remember'd Voice, the graceful charming [Page 219] Manner in which she express'd herself, and that engaging, undescribable, inimitable Something, which is not to be acquir'd, and which is only to be found in the Air and Mein of those whom Nature, and notArt embellishes, putting him more stronger in Remembrance of the felicitous Moments her Conversation formerly had bless'd him with, and revolving in an Instant ten thousand little nameless Softnesses,---- the thrilling, melting, rapturous Amusements,---- the Consequences of mutual Passion,----and comparing the present with the past, what he endur'd was not to be conceal'd!----a sudden Burst of wild impetuous Passion broke thro' all Disguise, blaz'd in his Eyes, and shew'd the burning Lover plain! Forgetful of what his cooler Thoughts had form'd, he threw himself on her Bosom, grasping her with a Violence scarce supportable, and fixing close to her's his glowing Lips, had Power no other Way to express the Extasy he now again began to re-enjoy!--- a thousand fond endearing Things crowded at once into his Soul, and press'd for Utterance! ---He wou'd have spoke 'em all, but the tumultuous Meanings were too great, too many, and overthrew each other in the Throng, and all he cou'd bring forth was Montamour! ----Angelick Montamour! Divine, Adorable Montamour! ----This was indeed sufficient to make her sensible who it was she entertain'd; and nothing can be more amazing than that in the Surprise of such an Interview, she acted not the least Extravagance:---Neither the Shock which the Remembrance of his late ill Usage gave her Pride, vented itself in Fury and Revilings; nor the secret Pleasure, which in spite of her Resentment, her continued Tenderness felt at his Repentance and Return, was discoverable by either Word or Look; but doubtful that she might not retain this Command of her Temper, if she trusted herself to listen to the Charms of his Perswasion, wou'd not put it to the Venture, but getting loose from his Embrace, and giving a sudden Spring to a little Bell which hung in the [Page 220] Room, rung it with such a Force, that the Abbess and several of the Nuns came running in before this disappointed Lover cou'd say or do any Thing to prevent her. What this holy Man (said she, turning to the Abbess) has to offer, may, perhaps, be very good; but as my Resolution to become a Devotée is fix'd, I think it needless to hear any Thing which is design'd as an Endeavour to alter it: If my Brother is possess'd of any Scruples, or wou'd infuse any into you, of my Unworthiness of the Profession, he may communicate them by Letters either to you or me; for I am fully determin'd to enter into no Conversation with any Stranger, till my having taken the Orders has put a Stop to all the Arguments which may possibly be prepar'd to hinder me. In speaking these last Words, which she pronounc'd with the most resolute Air, she flew out of the Room, leaving him to make his Excuse as he cou'd to the Abbess, and those of the Sisterhood who had accompany'd her. The Consternation they were in at her Behaviour was very favourable to Beauclair; for while they were looking on one another, wondering what it should be that had occasion'd it, he gain'd a little Time for the Recovery of his scatter'd Spirits, but not enough to enable him to speak of this Adventure, as a Person so unconcern'd as that which he represented wou'd have done. The Confusion, however, and Hesitation of the few Words he spoke, were look'd on only as occasion'd by his Chagrin for the indifferent Reception he had met with; and he left them as full of Trouble for the Disrespect they imagin'd had been paid to a Man of his Reverence, as they wou'd have been of Anger had they suspected the Imposture.

The Injur’d Husband; or, the Mistaken Resentment. A Novel. Written by Mrs. Eliza Haywood. (London: Printed for D. Brown, jun. at the Black Swan, without Temple-Bar; W. Chetwood, and J. Woodman, in Russel-Street Covent-Garden; and S. Chapman, in Pall-Mall, 1723). <Link to ESTC>

Text from Secret Histories, Novels and Poems. In Four Volumes. Written by Mrs. Eliza Haywood. 2nd ed. 4 vols. (London: Printed [partly by Samuel Aris] for Dan. Browne, jun. at the Black Swan without Temple-Bar ; and S. Chapman, at the Angel in Pall-Mall, 1725). <Link to ESTC>